Saving Julie Westwood

Chapter Two: A Company that Needs No Introduction

The way to the studio was marred with angry drivers and sweltering heat. Even in mid-February, temperatures were almost above 80 degrees and the dress she was wearing was already collecting sweat under the high-collared button down jacket that accompanied it. Her mind was reeling again, thinking of what Jean-Claude had mentioned, feeling weaker than before, feeling more worthless than ever. Her hands shook as she reached into her coin purse to hand the man at the entrance of Walt Disney Studios the money she needed to park. Julie didn't even pay attention to the gate being raised. It wasn't until a car honked behind her that she looked up, angry and revving her gas, speeding quicker than she expected the car to go.

Within moments she had found a parking lot and exited the car, throwing the door shut as a man exited the door of his car across from her, the same car that had honked at her, before the black automobile drove off, leaving the two of them alone.

"Just who do you think you are?" Her voice shook with anger and frustration. She hadn't meant to take it out on the defenseless passenger. But, by this time, her nerves were shot, her anger becoming the sole source of reason as she attempted to get his attention.

"I was moving, you didn't have to honk so rudely!" She stumbled forward, her legs trapped in the form-fitting skirt, pillbox off-centered and covering half of her eye.

The man looked onward at her from the sidewalk, smiling brightly before coughing. She caught up to him before taking a full foot step back upon realization who the man was. Julie found herself face-to-face with Walt Disney.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Disney. I had no idea." The words formed apology after unwavering apology before Julie stood in silence, watching as the aging man laughed at her feeble attempt of reconciliation.

"It's not every day I get yelled at for a car I didn't drive. The name's Walt, nice to meet you." His hand outstretched, a candid twinkle in his eye as he waited for her response.

"Julie Westwood, sir."

"Walt-." He corrected.

"I'm Julie Westwood...Walt." The name sounded foreign and unnatural on her tongue, she had been referring to him as 'Mr. Disney' for years, on the television, about his park, it was always "Mr. Disney" in her household. Her hand grasped his firmly before placing it rigidly back by her side, fixing her hat in the process. She was nervous now, far more nervous than she had ever been before – was he going to be in the interview? How was she even going to get the job if she had just yelled at the man who created the films in the first place.

"Well, Julie, I hope you have a wonderful day." He coughed loudly before entering the building to his right and once again, Julie was alone. Her thoughts consumed her, swirled around her, wondering if Walt Disney even knew why she was there. She came to the conclusion he did not know, why would he know, he oversaw movies, he didn't deal with people like her. Hell, she had been asked by someone who didn't even work for the company, a third party, at a small boutique she was visiting on Rodeo Drive with her friend, Grace.

Julie had gone through the motions, through the open audition where she rehearsed lines in a British accent, through the callback audition where she had to dance and sing, and finally here, the final callback where she had to convince the Disney executives producing the film. She wasn't sure what to think, maybe Jean-Claude was right, maybe she was too old for this, nearly 33, wondering what the hell she was doing here. It never occurred to her that maybe she was insane for thinking she had a shot. Julie merely went with the flow, trying to carve her own path in life. So far, she hadn't been very successful.